


can i be close to you?

by sapphirics



Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, denial ain't just a river in egypt, loosely follows the movie's timeline, very gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirics/pseuds/sapphirics
Summary: three times trini and kimberly almost kiss (and one time they do)orthe one where these two idiots take way too long to admit their feelings to themselves, and even longer to admit them to each other.





	1. so can we be friends (sweetly, before the mystery ends?)

**Author's Note:**

> the one where they bond over dessert and a biology test.

It's unclear when exactly she and Kimberly become friends. The process is so unconscious that it only becomes obvious what's happened in retrospect, when she realizes that somehow the defining factor of her relationship to the girl is no longer just _teammate._

But it starts, Trini thinks, in Biology class.

More specifically, it starts with a jab in her side that pulls her out of a really good nap.

“Hey—” She wakes with a confused jolt, wide-eyed and ready to jump out of her seat before her eyes even focus properly. The only thing that stops her from doing so is a hand on her shoulder, the smell of vanilla and a familiar voice that seems simultaneously far away and way too near.

“Relax, it's just me.”

She's vaguely aware of the sound of chairs scraping against the floor and the chatter and footsteps of students leaving the room.

It takes a few seconds for the haze of sleep to wear off enough for her to make sense of what’s in front of her, and the first thing she registers is a torso wearing a light pink blouse and leather jacket, and her eyes travel up to rest on the smirking face of the girl attached to it.

“Learning by osmosis?” Kimberly asks. When she receives only a blank stare in response, she motions towards the open textbook on Trini’s desk that she had clearly been using as a pillow.

Trini's eyes move to the book then back to Kim, and she absently touches her face where, as she guessed, she can feel a few lines imprinted along her cheek from the pages.

Her eyes narrow in vague irritation — at being woken up that way? At falling asleep without realizing? At being awake at all? All three, probably — and she pulls her bag onto her lap from the floor and begins to pack her things away, ignoring the faint pang of embarrassment bringing heat to her face.

“Did you want something?” she asks, not looking up.

“Well, the bell rang and I noticed you were still asleep, so I figured if I didn't wake you up the seventh period English class would.”

Kimberly isn't a stranger anymore, so it makes sense that her eyes wouldn't pass her straight. Still, Trini finds herself a little surprised at the realization that this seat, the same back-row seat she’s been occupying since the beginning of the year, isn't enough to keep her invisible anymore. Or at least not from everyone. Clearly not from Kimberly, who less than a week ago didn't even know what class they had together.

“Thanks… I guess.” She stands up, putting her arm through one strap and slinging the bag around, and Kimberly steps back to make room for both of them in the small space between the desks.

Trini considers the girl for a moment. Her chin is up, hair framing her face. She’s pretty, more than pretty (it's hard to not notice, and Trini isn’t blind) but something in her expression, in the way her lips are parted just slightly like words are sitting right behind them, gives Trini the impression she's not quite sure why she's still standing there.

They're more than just acquaintances but they're not quite friends, not quite sure what to make of each other yet. And Trini’s not in the mood to stand there until they figure it out, so she turns to leave, mumbling, “See you ‘round.”

“Hey, wait.” A tug on her arm stops her.

She doesn't turn around completely, just slightly angles her body towards her to indicate that she's listening.

“I don't know if you heard Mr. Kennedy say he’s giving us a test next week—”

“I did.”

“Well, it’s forty-percent of our grade, and I don't know about you but I don’t know shit about this topic so I could really use a study buddy,” Kim says. “We could go to Krispy Kreme or something after training sometime this week, try to make sense of it over donuts?”

Trini’s glances down to where her hand is still resting on her arm, where she swears she can feel each individual finger through her jacket, radiating warmth even through the fabric. She pulls her arm away at the exact moment Kim drops her hand. Shoves her hands in her pockets.

She doesn't ask why she’s asking her out of all people, but she's definitely thinking it. Again: they're not friends, haven't had much interaction outside of Power Ranger stuff, don't know each other very well. Maybe that's the point, she thinks.

Or maybe, since her recent fall from grace, there aren’t many other options left.

Eventually, aware she's been silent for a length of time bordering on awkward, she gives a short, barely there nod. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Okay. How’s tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Trini is walking away again before the word is even completely out of her mouth, but when she reaches the door she turns around and gives a mock salute. “See ya.”

Then she’s gone before Kimberly can reply, heading to her seventh period class with her bag hanging on one shoulder, an expression of vague confusion on her face and a flitting feeling in her stomach she can’t quite place.

 

-

 

“—so basically, the viral DNA integrates itself into the host’s genetic material, but doesn’t harm it.”

They’re sitting across each other at a table near the back, a chocolate glazed donut—the third one between the two of them in the last half hour—resting on a napkin in the center of the table and their notebooks on their laps. They've been discussing the concepts they've gone over in class so far, and Trini’s in the middle of explaining one Kim doesn’t understand.

A beat passes where she jabs the donut with her fork, breaking off a piece and popping it into her mouth. “Don’t look so surprised. I don't sleep in every class.”

“I wasn't—sorry.” Kim shakes her head, idly poking the other side of the donut with her own fork. “Clearly I'm the only one who needs help with this. You might as well be speaking Latin.”

If it’s meant as a joke, it falls flat, an unmistakable undertone of exhaustion beneath each word. Her eyes are downcast, dark circles right under them; the same dark circles Trini sees reflected back at herself when she looks in the mirror.

“I get it.” A sip of coffee. “If it makes you feel any better, this is, like, the only subject where I have any idea what I'm doing.” If she’s being honest, Biology is one of the only classes she actually pays attention in semi-regularly.

“It’s just hard to give a shit about school when, you know, the fate of the whole entire world is at stake,” Kim says, making quotation marks with her fingers and doing a (terrible) imitation of Zordon’s voice for the last part that gets a chuckle from Trini.

“Yeah. I don't care about this shit on a regular day.”

“Yeah, right. You obviously care at least a little.”

She shakes her head. “Nah, I just figure it's easier to put in the effort to not fail everything than it is to deal with my mom if I don't.”

Kimberly looks like she wants to know more, but nods and looks down instead, finally pulling off a piece of the donut for herself.

Trini regards her for a moment, thumbing the corner of a notebook page. “So, if you don't give a shit why bother studying then? This _was_ your idea.”

The girl just shrugs, looking back up again. “I figure maybe I'll care later. After all... this,” she waves the fork around in a vague gesture that Trini assumes means _training to fight an alien lady and her rock sidekicks and golden monster-pet-thing_ , “—is over. Life’s gotta go on, right?”

“Right.” Hopefully.

“And I figure if I ever wanna leave this hell hole, graduating from high school can only help.”

“I hear you on that, chica.”

 

-

 

It becomes a routine _._

For the rest of the week, they head home nearly every day after training to shower then meet up in Krispy Kreme or Starbucks or anywhere that serves enough sweet things to make Biology bearable, and talk about fun topics like viruses and bacteriophages over dessert.

It turns out that Kimberly knows a little more than she thought and Trini knows a little less than Kimberly thought, and by combining their individual incomplete knowledges they manage to actually be productive most of the time.

Kimberly makes a joke about their relationship being _pretty symbiotic_ at one point and earns a glare (“That was worse than your osmosis one”) so distracting she doesn't even notice the other girl stealing the last bite of her donut until she goes for it without looking down and stabs her fork through an empty napkin, then looks up back up just in time to see a smirking Trini stick it in her mouth.

What ensues is, of course, a fight over the last of Trini’s donut (not for the first time), which Kim wins (not for the first time).

Okay, so they manage to be productive like forty-percent of the time, but it's more than they would have gotten done on their own.

Not much changes outside of that; it's the only time they really talk to each other without the other Rangers around, aside from passing greetings in the hallway or Biology class.

But Trini finds her eyes wandering to the girl in the front of the class more often than she would like to admit, studying the lines of her, the dark bob of hair she never pulls back, the way she holds her pen, the way she rests her elbows on the desk and her chin on her hand. She's just intrigued by her, is what she tells herself and the flutter in her chest, and it's not entirely a lie.

The one time she gets caught—Kim turns around before she has time to look away and their eyes meet—the short-haired girl just offers her a smile.

That smile is the most interesting thing Trini sees all day.

 

-

 

The day before the exam they're sitting in Krispy Kreme again, taking turns answering practice questions and stealing bites of each other's food as the late afternoon crowd gradually filters in then back out again.

It’s Kim who notices first when she gets up for a bathroom break and takes a good look around them for the first time in very likely over an hour. “Shit.”

Trini looks around too, rubbing the back of her neck. One worker is walking around wiping the tables and the other two are leaning on the counters, eyes glazed over, obviously tired. She clicks her phone. 8:47. “Maybe we should call it a night. They're probably closing soon anyway.”

“Yeah,” Kim agrees. A beat. “Or we could go back to mine, if you want.”

The suggestion catches Trini slightly off guard, and her face instinctively slips into a neutral expression; a crutch. “Uh… I don't know.”

“Oh, it's okay, you don't have to,” Kim says with a shrug—too quickly, like she was expecting it.

Trini just nods, though she feels more disappointed than relieved, and they sit (well, Trini sits while Kim stands, hand resting on the back of her chair, fingers tapping silently) in that silence for a few seconds before Kimberly speaks again, slowly.

“...but it _would_ be a shame if after putting in all this effort we didn't at least get everything we wanted to do done.”

She’s met with an immediate eye roll from Trini. And here she was, thinking that Kimberly Hart would concede so easily. “Wow. Seriously.”

“I'm just sayin’.”

A raised eyebrow.

A responding shrug.

Unsurprisingly, it’s Trini who gives in, but whether it's to Kimberly or herself, she can’t say. “Fine, I'll come to your stupid house.”

If Kimberly notices the way her eyes soften, betraying the pretense in her otherwise carefully projected apathy, she doesn’t say. Just smiles. “Great, be right back.”

 

-

 

Fast forward forty minutes and they’re in her living room, Kimberly sitting cross-legged on the floor with a small half-full container of Tropical Skittles next to her and Trini lying across the couch, one leg hanging off and an arm bent behind her head, papers resting on her stomach.

Kim _did_ tell her to make herself comfortable.

Her parents are out, so they have the house to themselves, and they've turned their studying into a sort of game, going back and forth asking each other multiple choice questions.

“A, plasmid?”

“Someone’s on a roll.”

A fist pump. “Skittle me.”

Breathing out a laugh, Kimberly reaches into the bowl and picks out a skittle (yellow, of course) and tosses it at Trini, who catches it in her mouth easily before picking up one of the papers and holding it in front of her face with her eyes narrowed in exaggerated concentration, looking for a question she hasn't asked her yet.

Kimberly finds herself grinning almost involuntarily at the sight of Trini sprawled out on her couch, all initial awkwardness at being in her house gone. It’s bizarre how much tinier it makes her look, how she fits snug on the same couch that even Kimberly can’t lie on without her feet hanging over the edge of the armrest. It's kind of adorable.

Something like affection bubbles in her chest, warms her stomach, and she has to tear her eyes away; she busies herself with picking orange Skittles out of the bowl for herself instead.

“You know, you’re not what I expected.” The confession leaves her mouth before she really thinks about it; casual.

Trini stops what she’s doing and looks at her. “What do you mean?”

“I don't know, I guess at first you seemed sort of…”

“Antisocial? Overly aggressive? Unapproachable?” Her tone is almost overly nonchalant, like she’s reciting a list she’s spent half her life memorizing.

Kimberly scrambles to clarify, shaking her head. “No, no! Well...” She cringes. “Yeah, actually, kinda. Not in a bad way, just—” She’s avoiding eye contact by now, and she brings a hand to rest on her mouth in a gesture clearly meant to indicate that she entirely regrets the direction she has taken this conversation in.

The girl’s answer surprises her. “It's okay.” A beat. “You’re not what I expected either.”

Kimberly looks up at her. “Oh? What did you expect?” She's unsure she even wants to hear the answer.

“I don’t know. Stuck up little princess, head bitch,” Trini says, bluntly, because apparently it's honesty time. A little smirk appears. “Not that I was entirely wrong.”

“ _Hey._ ” Kimberly’s mouth is set in a scowl and her eyebrows are furrowed in faux-hurt, and the expression just makes Trini laugh.

Big mistake, because before she knows it, a Skittle hits her in the face, bouncing off her forehead and onto the floor.

“Um, ouch!” Trini’s the one scowling now, and Kimberly has this annoying smirk on her face. Another Skittle hits her face before she can even say anything else. “Okay, it’s on!”

She launches off the couch at the girl, whose back hits the floor with a squeak. Trini’s over Kimberly before she knows what hit her, knees straddling her torso, hands pinning her hands to the floor.

Kim’s too surprised to even react initially, to do anything but stare with a dopey sort of look on her face. They've ended up in similar positions during training, but this type of playfulness outside of the pit, outside the context of fighting, is different, unexpected. All she can focus on is the smell of Skittles and coffee, the feeling of soft hands and strands of brown hair falling on her face, and green eyes less than a foot away from hers.

That thought seems to occur to Trini too because she pauses mid-laugh, and Kimberly swears she sees her eyes flick to her lips, feels herself instinctively leaning closer...

Trini’s grip on her hands loosens the slightest bit and this snaps Kim out of her daze for just long enough to break free of her hold and try to flip them over. Trini reacts quickly, though, and soon they're a tangle of limbs, elbows knocking and hands tugging shirts as they each try to get the upper hand, until they eventually both give up and collapse on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, shaking with laughter.

What feels like hours but must only be minutes pass before they’ve caught their breaths, and Kim playfully shoves Trini’s shoulder. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You started it,” Trini says matter-of-factly, shrugging, a smirk on her face.

“Hmph.”

“Seriously.” Then, when Kim doesn’t reply she turns to face her. She’s staring at the ceiling, biting her lip, expression indiscernible. Trini wonders whether she had really been pretending to be hurt after all. “I didn’t mean it, obviously.”

A beat passes before Kim turns to face her, rolling her eyes. “No shit.”

“Seriously,” Trini repeats. “I've met a lot of girls like that, and let's just say I haven't had very good experiences with them. But you’re not like them, even if you used to hang out with them.”

Kim mulls this over in her head briefly before a little smile makes its way onto her face, and Trini feels herself go warm all over. Feels her lips form a smile that mirrors it. They stare at each other like that for a few moments before Trini finally motions to her right, eyes still trained on Kimberly’s face, and says, “So, uh... I think we knocked the Skittles over.”

They both turn their heads at the same time, and sure enough, it's flipped over, the colourful contents scattered across the floor.

Oops.

Their eyes linger on the scene for a few moments before meeting each other’s again, and they both make expressions that clearly say, _Well, shit._

“We should probably clean that up,” Trini says, though it's more of an observation than a call to action.

“Oh, definitely,” Kimberly says, nodding.

But neither of them moves, until a smile breaks out on Kim’s face, then a snort (an honest-to-god _snort_ ). Trini, lips pressed together, tries to fight it, she really does. But then a full on laugh leaves Kimberly’s mouth, and suddenly they're both rolling on the floor in laughter again.

It might be the lightest they've felt in weeks.

 

-

 

“I’ll drive you home.”

“It's not far to walk,” Trini says. It’s a lie. Her house isn’t too far from Krispy Kreme, but Kimberly’s house is… significantly further away.

Kimberly either doesn’t hear or doesn't care, because she's already grabbing her keys from the coffee table she tossed them down onto when they reached over two hours ago. Twirling them around, finger hooked in the key ring, she starts heading towards her front door. “Come on.”

“You know I’m a superhero, right?” Trini says, but she still slips back on her jacket and follows her out, books and papers tucked under her arm.

The drive is comfortably quiet, Trini staring out the window as they drive by houses and traffic lights and neon ‘OPEN’ signs on 24-hour convenience stores; Angel Grove at night. Her temporary, shitty, non-home. Seeing it like this, she thinks, is the only time she really feels anything for it, the only time she doesn’t feel like an outsider.

It’s not too long before Kim pulls up in front of her house. The lights are still on, because her parents being asleep already was too much to wish for, apparently.

A sigh. “Well, see you tomorrow, I guess.”

She undoes her seatbelt and her hand is reaching for the door handle when Kim leans over the center console and wraps her arms around her neck in an—albeit slightly awkward, given the position—hug. She hesitates before reciprocating, sliding her arms around Kimberly’s torso, hands resting on her back.

It’s a short hug, and they’re pulling away soon, settling into a comfortable silence interrupted only by the faint sound of the car radio playing at low volume, some song neither of them recognize. Illuminated only by the streetlight, Kimberly’s face is radiant, might as well be glowing, and fuck, she's stunning.

It's an objective fact.

Kim’s about to say something when a buzzing noise interrupts, and Trini pulls her phone out of her pocket. Her mom’s name glares back at her from the screen.

“Aaand there’s my cue to go,” she says with a roll of her eyes, flashing the screen for Kim to see before clicking the volume button to silence it. Her hand goes to the handle again. “Bye for real this time.”

Kim’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. See you, Trini.”

“It's been good, Hart,” she says, then she's opening the door and stepping out into the coldness of the night, quickly shutting the door behind her before she lets too much chilly air in. Then with a tap on the glass and a short wave, she's heading up the walkway to her house.

She doesn’t miss the way Kimberly waits until she gets inside the house to drive off, doesn't even mind her mom’s disapproving comments about her getting in way too late for a school night, and where was she, and why doesn’t she ever tell them what she’s doing?

And she can't shake off the smile on her face when her phone buzzes fifteen minutes later and she glances down to see:

**Kim, 11: 48 pm**

_let's not wait for another one of kennedy’s gross tests to hang out, yeah?_

She’s doesn’t know when exactly she and Kimberly Hart became friends, but she thinks she can get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't posted a fic anywhere in ages, but i'm really hyped about trimberly and have no self control so here ya go! the title is from bloom by paper kites (which is trimberly as hell), and the chapter title is from john my beloved by sufjan stevens. i definitely plan on incorporating the other characters in the next chapter. thanks for reading, and i'll really appreciate any feedback!


	2. i can feel the heat (but i'm not burning)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heights and bad decisions

Unlearning loneliness, as it turns out, is a gradual process.

But hey, it’s possible, which is more than Trini could have said a few weeks ago.

Her and Kimberly’s moment of late night hysterics may be the last time she ends up on _top_ of her (a good thing, decidedly), but it does crumble a wall of unfamiliarity; an invisible hurdle.

The next day she walks into Biology to see the girl in a different seat, smack in the middle of the classroom, shooing away two boys with an apology. All it takes is about two seconds of eye contact, a raise of her eyebrows and a tap on the seat to her right before Trini is resting her bag on the desk next to her.

As if this wasn’t already the month of change.

“I’m not letting you cheat off my paper, just so you know,” she says, sliding into the chair as Mr. Kennedy shushes the class from the front of the room.

Kimberly gasps over-dramatically and leans in, whispering, “You're a monster.”

Trini just rolls her eyes, a barely concealed smile on her face, not helped much by the grin Kim flashes her before mouthing ‘good luck’ and turning away.

(They're still in the same seats the day they get those tests back a week later, and those ‘A’s at the top feel like a joint achievement.)

(And yeah, having Kimberly reach over to doodle little smiley faces and lightning bolts in the corner of her notebook at least twice every class, and attempt to scrawl _‘KH was here’_ on her arm whenever she starts dozing off — _attempt_ being the key word here, because she only manages to get the full sentence down exactly _once_ before Trini starts anticipating it and swatting her hand away without even looking — does wonders to keep her awake.)

(Whether it helps her pay closer attention to what their teacher is saying, however, is an entirely different story altogether.)

Their post-training study sessions become occasional post-training coffee just for the sake of it, watching as daylight disappears and closing time approaches. Some days they don’t even talk; just sit content with simply their thoughts and the other’s company, no need to bridge the silence with meaningless conversation fillers.

Trini likes that.

And if the scent of vanilla colours her daydreams, swirling through her mind in a fuzzy cloud of pink that makes her stomach twist and her breath hitch, well, it’s only because of how much time they’ve been spending together. It’s not worth mentioning or thinking about, and she successfully avoids doing _one_ of those things, at least (spoiler alert: it’s not the latter).

It extends to all of the Rangers, though, that growing closeness — a comfortable camaraderie, like a connecting thread wrapped around their pinky fingers, just tight enough for them to know its there. They start eating lunch together, and Zack's attendance in school picks up enough for Trini to discover he's been in her Calculus class this entire time. Suddenly, the sea of strangers in the hallway is punctuated by four friendly faces.

It’s new, it’s terrifying, and it's everything she never knew she wanted.

It’s  _almost_ enough to lighten the weight of responsibility, the collective panic that rises between them amidst the continuous wave of bad news: reports about Angel Grove's serial killer, deaths, funerals. It _almost_ assuages the sting of failure as they start going to the ship earlier, leaving later, pushing harder, but still can’t morph. But it isn't, and it doesn’t.

So yeah, it's also sort of the best and absolute worst thing that's ever happened to her.

 

-

 

“Fuck!”

No one even flinches at Jason’s yell, or the subsequent _thwack_ of his fist colliding with the wall (and taking off a chunk of it in the process). It’s simply the physical manifestation of what they’ve all been feeling and thinking for the past several hours — the accumulated frustration of the day tipping over.

The five of them are covered in sweat and grime, slumped across the pit in their first break from getting their asses kicked by putties since they came down there, it feels like.

“Punch harder, maybe this place will collapse and bury us all,” Trini mutters. The comment gets a chuckle from Zack, at least, who leans up from where he's lying flat on his back a few feet away to point at her with approving finger guns, then immediately groans at the movement and brings his hands to cradle his abdomen.

“Hey, uh, Jason, can we end practice for the night?” Billy suggests. Hums and grunts of agreement rise up from the other three.

Jason leans back against the rock with a sigh. Raises his hand in a gesture of defeat. “Agreed.”

All eyes turn to Alpha, who's standing off to the side, observing the scene. Now, it shouldn't be possible for a technically faceless robot to look disappointed, but with his slumped shoulders and sigh, he really pulls it off. Trini can't bring herself to care, though. When that robotic voice waves them away with a strained but cheery reminder to ice their injuries, it's fucking music to her ears.

She’s walking — _limping_ — towards the exit with the rest of them when she glances back and sees Kimberly still sitting against the wall in the corner. Jason stops too, and they look at each other for a few seconds, a silent conversation, before he nods and leaves.

Trini approaches almost cautiously and sits down next to her. “Hey, everything okay?”

Kimberly doesn't respond — just keeps staring down, eyebrows furrowed, chest rising and falling steadily. Trini follows her gaze and realizes she's holding her power coin.

She goes to touch Kim’s shoulder, hand hovering inches away from the exposed skin right next to the strap of her tank top, then changes her mind and waves it in front of her face instead. “Kim? Blink twice if you can hear me.”

When Kimberly finally looks up, she looks almost surprised. “Sorry. I'm okay.”

“Super convincing.”

She half-heartedly bumps Trini’s shoulder with her own. “Really. You didn’t need to wait for me.”

“I'll go if you want,” Trini says, resting a hand on the floor, ready to push herself up again. She doesn’t realize she’s hoping otherwise until Kim shakes her head and she feels her shoulders relax.

“No, it’s okay. I'm just...” A beat passes where Kim looks down at the glowing pink rock again. “Thinking.”

The next part should be easy; her next line is practically pre-written for her, the question you're supposed to ask when someone says they're thinking about something sitting _right there_. But Kim looks so serious, mouth set in a frown, and Trini’s mind blanks, suddenly overcome by the inexplicable urge to reach out a hand and brush a lock of hair behind her ear, to stroke her cheek and ease that frown off her face.

_Woah. Back up there, homegirl._ She stores that thought away to deal with at a later date. Or never.

Her hand goes to her pocket instead, and she pulls out her own coin and holds it next to Kim’s, which immediately glows brighter from the proximity. They stare at them with a sort of reverence, breathing stilled — yellow light against pink light, pulsing as one.

Kim’s the one who breaks the silence. “You ever think maybe they’re wrong?”

Trini doesn't have to ask to know what she means. She already finds herself wondering the same thing constantly, never has to reach too far to find that doubt lingering at the back of her mind. It's less of a relief and more of a dull ache in her chest to know that she's not the only one.

“Sometimes.” She turns the coin over in her hand a few times. “I think we just gotta hope not, y’know?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“If it makes you feel any better, at this point it's probably too late for them to find anyone else."

Kim breathes out a huff of air; a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “ _That’s_ your way of making me feel better?”

“ _Yeeeaaah_. Sorry.” She scrunches her nose (a brief, vaguely apologetic, I’m-aware-of-how-bad-I-am-at-this expression), then slides her coin back into her pocket and stands up. She offers her hand to Kim. “Let’s get out of here.”

The girl stares at the hand for a few seconds before taking it and pulling herself up (with some difficulty), and Trini ignores the tingle the contact sends through her palm, all the way up her arm.

She lets go as soon as Kim has steadied herself, and they head towards the water barrier together, side-by-side.

“You know, I could _really_ go for a scone right now,” Kim says once they reach, and Trini think she’s being serious until she glances at her and notices the sparkle in her eyes, the sarcastic twist to her smile.

Trini gives a dry laugh and tilts her head up to look at the dark pool of water hanging above them. Her body’s littered with bruises and aching like a mother-something, and every cell in it wants nothing more than to sink into a chair opposite the girl next to her at a table near the back of wherever’s open and lose herself in a cup of hot chocolate. Let warm brown eyes and fluorescent overhead lights drain the tension from her body until she feels human again.

She's not really in the mood to be alone yet, even if she'd never _admit_ that, and she doesn't think Kim is either.

But they both know that it's too late to do anything but part ways once they reach the top and trudge the paths to their homes by themselves, cold and shivering (to, in Trini’s case, sneak in through her bedroom window and hope to god that her parents are out).

So she casts one more glance at Kimberly, takes a deep breath, and braces herself for the jump.

 

-

 

If there’s anything Kim should definitely be used to by now, it’s the blare of her alarm at 7 am on the dot.

Still, when she awakes to the sound of 'N Sync at (surprise, surprise) 7 o’ clock, she groans and blindly hits the snooze button before rolling over, burying her face in her pillow in a futile attempt to cling onto the already slipping world of dreams. About five minutes pass before the second alarm goes off, and she groans again then slowly sits up, wincing slightly at the soreness in her biceps as she does. She brushes her fingers through her hair, eyes squinting against the glare of sunlight peeking through the curtains.

She instinctively reaches for her phone and rests it on her bed, scrolling through the notifications against her better judgement.

It’s mostly the usual — social media alerts and messages from Amanda and Harper and whoever else she's managed to piss off this year — but she sees one text she doesn’t expect, and slides to open it.

**Trini,** 6:51 am

_hey, how would you feel about missing school today?_

It’s sort of surprising, definitely unpredictable, but a smile finds her face at the message, the briefest flutter in her chest at the sight of the name.

**Me** , 7:08 am

_why?_

Her fingers tap against her thigh as she waits for the response.

**Trini** , 7:10 am

_i could use a day off_

_figured you could too_

**Me** , 7:11 am

_what did you have in mind?_

**Trini** , 7:11 am

_mines at 8_

It’s not really a proper answer. Yet, maybe it's because she’s still half-asleep, or because her mind was already made up, but her fingers type and send the response without really thinking, only vaguely aware that she’s effectively leaving the rest of her day (or at least the first half of it) to Trini’s whim.

**Me** , 7:11 am

_i’ll be there_

She rests her phone on her nightstand, then leans back again and closes her eyes. For a small moment, she lets herself enjoy the softness of the sheets and the red glow of the sun through her eyelids, lets herself feel the warm contentedness flowing through her body.

Suddenly, the idea of starting the day seems a lot more appealing.

 

-

 

An hour and a few lies by omission to her parents later, and she’s wandering the outskirts of the mountain, away from the eyes and sounds of the mine workers, looking for Trini.

It only takes her a few minutes to spot her perched on a peak not too far from the ravine — against the dull grey and green of their surroundings, her yellow bomber jacket might as well be a neon sign: _Hey, look at me!_  She’s sitting on the grass, knees up, using her bag as a backrest. When she notices Kimberly jogging towards her, she takes her headphones off and rests them around her neck, then raises her hand in a half-wave.

“Hey, you came.”

“Well, what kind of friend would I be if I denied you my amazing company?” Kim says, tilting her head to the side with an (only slightly cocky) grin that grows with the unamused look Trini gives her.

“You’re so humble it, like, blows my mind. Here.” She holds out a cup of coffee, and Kim takes a few steps forward and gingerly cups her hands around it.

But when she opens her mouth to speak, Trini interrupts before she can get a word out. “Black with an extra shot of espresso and a splash of milk. Before you ask.”

“I was actually just gonna say _thank you_ ,” she says pointedly, but her mouth curls up in a smile regardless. Her order’s not exactly difficult to remember, and Trini’s definitely had a lot of opportunities to remember it, but it's been a while since anyone's brought her coffee. It's nice. “So thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever.” But she's smiling too; a barely-there smile she probably thinks she's successfully hiding.

That's Kim's favourite type of smile.

She turns around and digs through her bag for a few seconds before pulling out a brown paper bag and handing it to Trini, who peers inside at the two (slightly squished by now, Kim's sure) muffins lying inside. "My dad made them this morning," she explains. A pause, and a little smirk. "If you don't like blueberry I can just have them."

But Trini seems to anticipate her next movement and pulls the bag back at the exact moment she reaches for it. They both breathe out a laugh.

"I like blueberry," Trini says, picking off a piece of the muffin and sticking it in her mouth as though to prove her point.

Kim drops her bag on the ground and sits down adjacent to Trini, legs sticking out, slowly sipping the lukewarm coffee to the soundtrack of the faint noise (the most generous descriptor she can think of for it) coming from the headphones still resting around the girl's neck. Time passes sluggishly in comfortable silence, and don't get her wrong, she could sit like this with Trini all day. But by the time she brings her cup to her mouth to find that it's empty and Trini still hasn't offered anything in the way of an explanation, her curiosity gets the best of her.

"So, like, as happy as I am to be here instead of my first period English class, why exactly are we here?"

Trini shrugs, expression indifferent. “Uh… I don't know.” She looks down, starts picking pieces of grass off her shoe lacings. “I used to come here every afternoon to practice tai chi. Helped me get out of my own head for a bit. Last night it just seemed like you could afford to do that."

Call her dense, but even though she already knows she can consider her a friend, it just kind of hits her that Trini might actually kind of  _care_ about her. And she's not quite convinced that she deserves it, but she feels a rush of...  _fondness_ blooming in her chest anyway, this soft, fuzzy feeling because, yeah, she's definitely not what she expected. Far from. Worlds away.

“Thanks, Trini.” The words come out softer than intended, and suddenly there’s that badly hidden smile again (Kim’s favourite, the one that makes her stomach twist in an alarming way, the one she wishes she could bottle up and save for later) tugging at the corner of Trini’s mouth, softening her eyes.

“Don't mention it.”

Kim’s smiles, more to herself than anything. She opens her mouth, then closes it. Turns her empty cup around in her hand a few times before setting it down on the grass. “I wanna show you something.”

 

-

 

“And they call _me_ crazy girl.”

Kimberly laughs, this delighted, mellifluous sound that dances in Trini’s ears. “Zack’s the only one that calls you that. And it’s not as far down as it looks.”

After a short trek to the more forested area of the mountain, they're on top a rock precipice over a pool of water, legs dangling over the edge. Trini’s sitting and Kimberly’s lying back, hands resting on her stomach while she speaks and Trini listens, eyes flitting between the girl and their surroundings. She’s rarely ventured to this part of the mountain, but she can see the appeal of the cloak of trees, far enough removed from everything to provide a sense of privacy, but not thick enough to block the sunlight from spilling through.

And Kim’s right — it’s not a far drop. Compared to the height they jump from every single day, it might as well be a step down. But still, there’s something really amusing to her about the fact that Kimberly Hart apparently had a penchant for diving off cliffs into water even _before_ she had superpowers.

It explains a lot.

“Swimming here’s nicer when it's dark,” Kim muses, and it sounds like she could be talking to either Trini or herself. She sits up. “My parents used to take me hiking on this trail when I was younger. I rediscovered it last year, and I guess I've been coming here every now and then ever since."

Trini nods. She understands — if back there is her place, this is Kim's.

“I just — it's just so _crazy_ that it all started here," Kim continues. "I hate this town, but here's one of the few things about it that aren't so bad, you know?"

Trini doesn't really mean to ask, but the question slips out anyway. “What are the other things?”

“Oh, Krispy Kreme, definitely."

Trini makes a _pfft_ sound. “The mines and Krispy Kreme. Sounds about right.”

“And..." She presses her lips together. "And you guys. This  _thing_ we've been doing. Don't get me wrong, it fucking sucks sometimes, but it's like—” She cuts off, eyes flitting around for a second like the words she's looking for are written on one of the trees. “It feels like the only meaningful thing I've done for as long as I can remember."

The sincerity in the words is unexpected. "Yeah, I get that," is all Trini manages to get out.

Kim doesn't say anything else, just keeps staring ahead, a look in her eyes like she's somewhere else entirely, and it  _tugs_  at something in Trini, and suddenly her hand is tingling with that stupid urge again.

And it feels like the culmination of the series of bad ideas she's had this morning. The series of bad ideas that began at 6:50 am when she rolled over and decided to ask Kimberly Hart to play hooky with her (because she wanted to be a good friend, yeah, but for more selfish reasons too, because she just wanted to _see_ her). But she gives into it.

She tucks a lock of hair behind Kim’s ear, lets her hand brush her cheek. When Kim turns her head, there's a crease between her eyebrows, and she swallows, the lump in her throat bobbing up and down, and Trini’s suddenly hyperaware of how close together they're sitting, of the fact that her hand’s still lingering there.

And she must be really outdoing herself today, because her eyes flick down to Kim’s lips, parted slightly with a half-healed cut from training a few days ago on the corner, and she has another bad idea.

An even worse idea. A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad idea.

She's thinking about how bad of an idea it is as her thumb starts gently stroking Kim’s cheek, right above her jawline, and she leans infinitesimally closer. A shaky breath leaves Kim’s mouth, and she's staring at her with something like _wonder_ , and it lifts a weight off her chest, and, god, she wishes she could live in this moment forever. Out of everything, she thinks, this could be enough to make up for all of the bad things.

But the moment only lasts about five seconds before a cold drop of rain falls on her forehead and shatters the spell.

She drops her hand as though touching Kim might kill her (because fuck, it could). Her face is burning and her entire body's tingling, but she's frozen in place. She feels a flash of panic. “Uh…”

Kim blinks, then looks up at the sky. The rain’s falling in a steady drizzle now, droplets hitting both of their faces, and Trini feels like she might pass out with every silent second that goes by, because she was just about to _kiss her_ , and she's not sure if Kim even realized that or what she's thinking, but she's barely ready to confront that fact in her own head, much less out  _loud_.

But finally, a small smile eases its way onto Kim's face, and she just laughs a little. “So much for getting me out of my own head, huh?”

Trini nearly breathes out a sigh of relief. Bullet dodged. "Yeah. That plan failed big time."

"Yup," Kim says, popping the 'p'. A beat. "But hey, thanks for listening to me."

"Anytime."

More silence, but it's okay, because it's _comfortable_ silence. Except Trini shifts in her seat, wipes at her forehead to brush off the water there, and she starts to get the sinking feeling that they're edging into awkward territory before Kim speaks again.

"Trini?"

Her breath catches in her throat. "Yep?"

"We should go find shelter."

Oh. "Right. Good idea."

They push themselves up, and Kim laughs again and hooks her arm around Trini's and starts pulling them away, through the trees. She starts saying something about getting their bags from the cliff before they get soaked, and they'll need to go get lunch later so how does she feel about pizza? And Trini just nods along and lets herself be dragged wherever Kim's taking her, only vaguely hearing what she's saying because her mind's racing and she still kind of feels like she might pass out, and...  _shit_.

She is in so much trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and 50 years later... there's an update! how do people do this whole committing to a fic and consistently writing it thing all the time???
> 
> 1\. i can't say thank you enough for all of the positive feedback. it was unexpected and really really really appreciated. especially the people who took the time to comment, just know that every single one made me smile like hell  
> 2\. listen, kim having an 'n sync song (you can decide which one tbh) as her alarm clock was 100% necessary and also 100% inspired by this http://enthusiangst.tumblr.com/post/159574024433  
> 3\. i made a sideblog! come check me out at @ trininotkwan.tumblr.com
> 
> as always, i'll really appreciate any feedback, and thanks for reading!
> 
> EDIT: firstly, i just wanted to let you guys know that i haven't given up on this! secondly, i did a rewrite of the last part of this chapter from kimberly's pov (mainly just as a sort of character development exercise that i initially wasn't planning on publishing) if anyone's interested: http://trininotkwan.tumblr.com/post/173553462826/can-i-be-close-to-you-trimberly-ficlet


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